It takes all but fifteen minutes for the camera crew to gather their equipment and exit my office, leaving Alicia, Eli and me here to discuss the interview. I walk the short distance towards my desk and finally take a seat in my plush, burgundy Connolly leather chair—which Alicia helped me pick out—hoping to get some work done.
"You did great! Absolutely fantastic! The numbers are going to be through the roof tomorrow!" Eli cheers with a grin from ear to ear.
"Good. Then maybe we can finally put this issue to rest," Alicia says, looking in my direction.
"Let's hope so because pretending is very exhausting."
My bitter tone of voice causes them to narrow their eyes on me, both probably drawing their individual conclusions as to why I'm not relishing in this momentous outcome.
Eli moves his gaze rapidly between Alicia and I, picking up on the tension that never failed to suffice and suffocate the air in any room that my wife and I occupied.
"Do you need two need a minute?" he inquires.
I shook my head. "No, Eli, that is alright. We're fine. I need to get back to work."
"Actually, yes Eli, we do need a minute." Alicia gives me a knowing look and then turns back to Eli. "Can we have the room?"
He looks to me again, as if seeking permission. I find it funny that after all of these years, although he usually sides with Alicia in our personal matters, he still respects my authority as his boss. With a nod of my head, I let him know it's all right. Taking one last moment to congratulate us again, he stealthily makes his exit before we are finally, left alone.
Propping my elbow on the arm of the chair, I lean back against the hand-stitched cushion as I stare at my wife. She remains on the opposite side of the desk, standing in front of a chair but refusing to sit, with her arms folded across her chest, glaring at me. I know where this is going; the familiar argument I can do without rehearsing today.
"So, what's up, Alicia? I did what you asked me to do and Eli said everything went well. What more can you possibly want?"
My words are cold and devoid. But I don't care. Really, what could she want? I sat there and played that little charade, to which, all of Chicago now believes we're a happily married couple. What more could there be to say, except…thank you?
"I want to know why you are all of a sudden making angry and bitter remarks every chance you get?" She steps forward and rests her hands on the edge of the desk, leaning into the space, allowing me to see the tiny vein popping out of the side of her neck. "Since when is pretending suddenly an issue for you, Peter? It didn't seem like an issue when you were lying to me every night after you fucked Amber!"
Shaking my head, I slowly recline it back against the headrest. Ugh, Amber. My ultimate betrayal with a prostitute that she will never let go, I just know it. She can preach that she forgave me until the cows come home, but we both know that never happened.
"Amber. Here we go again…"
I'm aware that my anger is rising from the grinding of my teeth and the feel of my heart rate increasing as my eyes narrow on her. I fucked up royally with Amber, but I thought we had moved on from that. I wasn't going back there. It was too much of a risk to have the same outcome from our fight last time on this issue.
"You know what, Alicia? I am not going to fight this. I am tired of having this same fight." Sitting upright, I reach for my pen and avert my gaze down to a stack of papers. "Now, I have work to do. But don't worry. I will be at the fundraiser on Saturday night."
She slams her hand on the desk, startling me. I had forgotten how much she hated when I brushed her off after she had geared herself up for a good fight. I look up at her with wide eyes.
"No! Come on, Peter! Tell me what you are thinking. Go ahead. You seem to have a lot of anger inside of you. So how about you get it all out now so we can proceed with this campaign without all of this hanging over our heads," she yells so loud I'm sure my staff on the other side can hear.
"Please, lower your voice." That was a bad choice of words I quickly realize. It probably resonated in her ears as if I told her to "shut up", judging from her reaction. The slow tilt of her head followed by the squinting of her eyes tells me I had just escalated her frustration from five to ten. "But no. You can forget it. There is nothing I can say that will be good enough. You still haven't forgiven me for Amber and you never will. I'm sorry, but there isn't more to say."
"Judging from your remarks, there is a helluva lot more that you want to say! So what is it? More apologies? Regret? What is bothering you so, Peter? What do you want from me?!"
Staring at her, I memorize the image of her standing before me in this moment as if I will never see her again. Folding my hands together, I inhale a deep breath and gaze deep into her confused eyes, not believing the words that are about to come out of my mouth.
"I want a divorce."
For a second, I look down, too afraid to see the hurt or anger that is waiting to greet me. To finally speak the words that I had been wanting to say to her for months, even playing them out in my mind couldn't prepare me for the real thing. Slowly, I lift my head and look at her, wondering what she will say.
She stands silent…frozen, her hands still poised on the edge of the desk as her widened eyes tell me I better explain because surely she heard wrong. Even when we were at our worst, very seldom did we toss around the word 'divorce'. We vowed to each other forever, and I'm sure in the backs of our minds, we still wanted that fairytale marriage and happy ending we dreamed of in our twenties. But life happened.
We grew older. We made mistakes. We changed.
A minute has passed and still…nothing. I know my statement caught her by surprise. The way she stands, slightly leaning against the polished wood for support, makes me feel as if I have knocked the wind out of her. Her steely silence is hard for me to decipher. I honestly don't know whether she's just digesting it or she truly doesn't know what to say.
But we can't continue to sit here like we're deaf. Finally, I speak again. "Look, Alicia. I will wait until you are elected for State's Attorney, and I will play my part as your husband until then. But…I want a divorce. I honestly can't live like this anymore. I don't want to be with you, and not really with you. I want a wife, or just someone, who actually wants to talk to me at night. Who wants a partner. Someone who actually wants me, wants my company."
Her eyes twitch slightly, a sign that tells me she's livid. Hell, she isn't even blinking!
"Someone like Ramona?" she blurts.
Ramona? How in hell does she even know about her? Hmm…Eli probably. I am all but taken aback by her allegation. Leaning back in the chair, I rub the top of my lip as I ponder this new revelation.
"How do you know about her?"
She leans further across the space of my desk. "I am not stupid, Peter!"
She tucks a fallen lock of hair behind her ear as she continues to yell and all I can think, even in this heated moment, is how beautiful she looks. Of how I missed waking up to her face in the morning and it being the last thing I saw before falling asleep at night. I missed my wife like hell, and now, I was giving up any possibility of having it all again.
"You think I don't have my own campaign manager doing research?" Her shout brings me out of my momentary daydream.
"No. It is not about Ramona," I say, calmly. I'm conscious to choose my words carefully. "This is about us, and this. Look at us." I spread my arms wide. "We can't even be in a room together for more than five minutes before we are fighting. Just look at us Alicia."
She finally draws back and folds her arms across her chest again, her chest rising and falling as she considers my observation.
"We aren't what we used to be. Do you really want this for the next four or eight years? Personally, I don't. I truly believe a divorce is best for both of us."
Again, I'm greeted with more silence. My trained eyes watch her closely, looking for any sign that I'm not alone in this desire. That somewhere deep inside, she would come to her senses and realize we shouldn't force ourselves to enjoy our golden years in misery.
"Are you sleeping with her?" she asks me, her eyes lacking all emotion.
Shaking my head, I rise from my chair and stand, burying my hands into my pocket. Leaning my head to the side, I laugh in disbelief at her accusation.
"Does it matter, Alicia?"
"Yes. It matters to me."
She's serious.
"No. I am not sleeping with her. Not yet."
I'm baiting her. I know exactly what I'm doing. Her jealousy has all but thrown me for a loop. I mean, she hasn't so much as even hinted to wanting to be in my bed for months, and all of a sudden, she wants to know if I fulfilled my part of the laws she laid out for our marriage and slept with Ramona? It's truly baffling. I stand here like a dog with his tongue wagging wildly, waiting for a bone…waiting for her response.
"Do you want to sleep with her?" she finally asks.
Dropping my head, I walk around the desk and inch towards her, not failing to notice how she retreats two steps back. I stop just a few feet in front of her, the chair in between us.
"This isn't about her. It's about us." I take another step forward as I lower my voice. "I love you, Alicia. I wasn't lying during that interview when I said that. None of the things I said was a lie. But the reality is, that this open marriage doesn't really work because you are happy with it and I am not."
"Do you want to sleep with her?" she asks again, almost as if she didn't hear anything I just said. When will she let this go?
A tired sigh passes my lips. "I want to be happy."
"And she makes you happy?" She arches her brow, clearly challenging me to go there. Again.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I try to understand this. I really do. What is her obsession with Ramona? Why won't she let her go?
"I don't know. All I know is that this charade between us isn't making me happy." There is a long pause before I continue. "Alicia, deep down, don't you think it's time for us to let go? For you to be happy? To stop pretending? Like you told me a few months back, "you lost your husband a long time ago." So why keep this up? Can you give me one good reason why we should stay in this marriage?"
Her eyes grow wide as she drops her folded arms and grips the arms of the chair. "So you are ready to just give up?! To throw in the towel just like that?"
At this point, I am utterly confused. And I know my confusion is painted all over my face.
"What the hell do you mean? All I have done the last five years is try to be there for you, to show you that I have changed. That I want this…us! Now you are accusing me of giving up?" Turning around, I walk back towards my desk. I want to leave it at that but I can't. My anger won't let me and neither will hers.
"You gave up on us. YOU!" I point my finger at her and she immediately shrinks back at my aim. "Don't you dare tell me this is my fault. When all I was trying to do was be there for you and you shut me out!"
She rolls her eyes, pissing me off more. "Yeah, way to be there for me by calling me a selfish bitch! And then telling me Will never loved me. How fucking supportive of you!"
My eyes clamp shut at the thought. I know she is right; I stepped way over the line there. I should have given her more time. Sitting in my chair for a minute, I rest my head in the palm of my hand as I wonder where we go from here.
"See? See what just happened?" I look at her once more. "There is no fixing us. We are broken and have been for years now. So I ask you again, why should we keep this up? Give me one good reason why we shouldn't just sign the divorce papers now?"
I clasp my hands together and rest them beneath my chin.
She shakes her head as she grabs her purse and coat, beginning to walk towards the door.
"Because I am not ready."
"Alicia." She looks at me, her hand on the doorknob. "It's time."
Even from my seated position, I can see the tears welled in her eyes. With a final glance, she walks out of my office, slamming the door behind her.